The Choice
by ThatThingCalledLoveContest
Summary: Esme was a woman of pride and dignity. She had an ideal family with the ideal home, but did she have the love of her husband? It would be Carlisle's choice, and when it comes down to the wire - what will his decision be?


**The Choice**

Esme's POV

The sun began setting behind the large gathering of deadened trees, brightening the winter sky with certain ferocity. The snow had settled during the night causing a thick layer on top of the once green grass of the park. But, as the day had begun many people had trodden their paths across the new crisp floor. A few rogue footsteps of little children ran along the slight mounds that all adults avoided. These little mounds were a quest for the young and a sign of danger for the elderly. The weights of the snow made the sullen branches droop even further, hunching under the sudden onslaught of weather.

My breath rasped out, looking like a fine mist blustering from my mouth. I had to sit down. My leather bound hands reached for the frost covered bench using the arm rests as a support to help me safely cross the ice. As soon as I sat down I continued pondering the beautiful sights around me. It was such a strong image that I was confronted with I couldn't help but stare.

The thick cluster of lifeless trees created long shadows stretching into a point, a mixture of black and brown were at the forefront with a gorgeous fire red sky blazing behind it. The rouge of it glanced off of the hovering clouds, outlining them in oranges and golds, blending them into the picturesque landscape. The pond that lay in the distance reflected everything back in reverse off of its glassy surface, adding its own dullness due to the murky waters that lay beneath it.

A couple walked by, the only sounds being the crunch of hardened leaves underfoot. I gave them a pleasant smile as they strolled past, the gentleman tilting his hat in acknowledgement and the lady grinned at me widely. I couldn't remember the last time Carlisle and I had walked hand in hand together.

Thirty two years of marriage and it was like living with a stranger, I knew that a relationship whittles away each year, but no-one ever told me how much. My mother never bothered explaining to me that the flowers and chocolates and sweet notes would cease to exist and would instead be replaced by mundane conversations. The only excitement I ever got was buying something new for the house, or seeing our children and our grandchildren.

I frequently flick through photo albums now, leafing through each creamy page to be faced with another testament to our life together. I closed my eyes and leaned back into the now melting bench. I mentally reached for the photos, in particular, the black and white photo of Carlisle and I on our wedding day. Two eighteen year olds looking sternly back at the photographer, his blonde hair slicked over to one side as was proper for a gentleman to have in 1958. His eyes were brooding, made worse by the black ink of the photo. My slender white lace wedding dress trailed to the floor, a humble bouquet of flowers clutched tightly in my gloved hands. That particular photo has a gentle haze about it further showing its antiquity. Even behind such concentrated looks though there was love there. I plunged even further into the memory vaults of my mind to bring forth a particular day, the day I met him. He was a medic in the English army, and I ran into him in the street, dropping my bag as I went.

"Excuse me Miss, I wasn't looking where I was going, I am so very sorry," a hand extended towards me, bearing my bag, his frame crouching at my feet.

I looked down as the accent intrigued me, I loved English gentlemen. I was met by a beautiful pair of brown eyes that were even at that point dark and brooding. But they were also filled with embarrassment. I took in a short stunned breath and my hand shot to my chest in shock as he stood face to face with me, still holding my bag. I hadn't even realised that he'd stood up, then upon realising my absurd behaviour I laughed. My chuckles stopped abruptly as his shoulders slumped slightly, his face conveying the hurt.

"No Sir, it was my fault, I........I wasn't watching where I was going also,", I smiled encouragingly at him until his eyes focussed again.

"May I accompany you to the shop Miss..............," he was waiting for me to supply my name, of which I quickly obliged.

"Just call me Esme," I smiled warmly at him as we began to walk together to the local store. That's when our courtship began. Three months later and we were wed, the chocolates were few and far between due to rationing, but still there was always a sweet note waiting for me.

He left shortly after settling down as husband and wife in England, he had to fulfil his army duties - training up other medics. Carlisle was gone for nine months to be exact, leaving me to cope with being pregnant with our first child Edward. He was a doting father and dedicated husband and we loved each other fiercely, when he returned from his duties..

I was pulled from my pleasant reverie by a cold breeze that pierced my clothing. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and tucked my chin into my scarf stubbornly; I hadn't noticed that night time had already descended. I took a few unsteady steps, and then slipped slightly, quickly regaining my balance before I fell completely.

I wandered aimlessly back home, through winding paths and dirt tracks, to the little stone cottage located nearly in the middle of nowhere. The chimney chugging a deluge of light grey smoke into the starry night and a glow of light shone from the little windows making the snow glisten like a thousand diamonds. I walked closer to the entrance, the wind beginning to howl and whip across my face.

As I closed the door behind me, the wind faded away into a whistle as it tried to sneak in through the gaps between the frame and its door. I kicked off my boots in the eerie silence, listening to the onslaught of weather against the stone of my cottage. I wandered into the living room, to find Carlisle asleep on the sofa, newspaper open on his stomach, snoring slightly. His blonde hair was beginning to grey at the roots, but was still slicked to one side - retaining some of his youthfulness. I slipped the paper from him and draped a tartan blanket over his chest to keep him warm until I would wake him up for dinner.

I was never quite prepared for married life though, I didn't feel excited to see Carlisle anymore, or listen to his views. Our once romantic life had lulled into a habit, where day by day he would voice the same irritations as before. It became worse since he'd retired as a doctor and now spent his days moping around the house. I on the other hand still felt young, although the aged face betrayed the lively soul I was.

I busied myself with the menial task of cooking. All three of our children were coming for dinner, plus their spouses and our grandchildren, it was enjoyable burden.

Edward met Bella in 1978, shortly after the wedding, Renesmee arrived. Alice (our youngest) married last year in 1989 to a lovely young man called Jasper Whitlock, she is currently expecting twins. Emmett (our middle child) has three children, Andrea, Emmett Jr. and James, he recently proposed to his long time girlfriend Rosalie.

Quite frankly, I was horrified that Edward married when he was 20 and Alice when she was 22. Carlisle never seemed to have an opinion on such matters but I always wanted more for my children. I wanted careers for them and to actually experience life before they settled. I didn't want them to live with disappointment and regret.

I'd made quick work of tenderising the beef by occupying my mind with such thoughts. I sighed wistfully as I stared out of the kitchen window waiting for the familiar cars to pull up. Sure enough the soft yellow lights appeared in the distance; an occasional tree would split the light in two for a moment and then disappear. Carlisle, my darling husband, the apple of my eye, the wind beneath my wings (I thought sarcastically) had been quiet as of late; even more so than usual and I had a pretty good idea as to why......................

Carlisle's POV.

Lately, Esme had become frozen to me, she wasn't how she used to be at all. The loving, caring, bubbly American I once knew had withered away into a tearful shadow of what she was. We were like two strangers under one roof, I sometimes wondered if we wed too quickly. Very recently I'd turned over the question of whether or not I still loved her, repeating it in my mind, concluding that we were a habit not a home. The only escape I got from the stifling silence nowadays was the local pub where I'd meet my friend, Marcus. We would go there frequently to escape our broken and lifeless marriages and reminisce over what a bunch of Casanova's our comrades used to be.

The day I met Esme I was on my way to meet a pretty lady called Jane. We'd been seeing each other for a few months, but in that split second when I walked into Esme I realised I wanted to know more about her.

Instead of heading straight to Jane's parents house to take her to the picture show, I walked Esme to the store wanting to know her every little like and dislike that she had. When I eventually got to Jane's I ended our time together, leaving her pouting in the doorway as I turned my back on it all.

I knew for certain that I wanted to take Esme's hand in marriage after just a few hours, unlike Jane where I wavered back and forth - undecided as to propose to her. Jane and I exchanged letters back and forth on occasion to update each other on our lives, but surely enough they stopped arriving.........until recently of course.

Since the beginning of our marriage we had always resided in the same house, so clearly Jane had hazarded a guess. Jane told me how she was now divorced, having had a son called Mark who was now 28. She was also moving to England; specifically speaking into the borough of Hertfordshire where I lived. At the bottom of the letter she'd scrawled an email address and her name. I couldn't help but email her straight away.

As we spoke more and more by email my marriage deteriorated. I didn't even pretend to be interested in the mundane everyday things that my wife would nag about. Esme would never stop whinging - the only time I got peace and quiet was when she left to go walk through the park. Then I would go check my emails to see if Jane had written back.

But today was different and the proposal left me gaping at the screen for a full 15 minutes. Jane wanted to meet me, not only meet me but stay the night with me. I'd noticed that her latest correspondence had gotten a bit steamier. I would be lying if I said that I didn't want to see her, but this was about having an affair. I glanced quickly out of the window and saw Esme walking up the winding path, frowning it seemed, in the harsh winter weather. I flipped the switch to turn the computer off and dived onto the sofa, pretending to be asleep, placing the newspaper over my chest as a nice finishing touch.

I heard the echo as she kicked off her boots and made her way through, pausing a moment to lay the blanket over me. I chanced a glance at her retreating back, as she headed straight into the kitchen to begin dinner. I racked my brain as to why she was beginning dinner so early. Then it clicked, the kids were coming over. All six and then four grandchildren - it was going to be stressful playing the dutiful grandfather, pretending that everything was ok and running smoothly.

My breathing became deeper as I settled into a relaxing sleep in the dimly lit room. I'd just rest my eyes before they arrive.

Esme POV

Carlisle slept right until the first of our family arrived. Emmett and Rosalie and the grandkids pulled up in the jeep, sprinted to the door and knocked a tune on the hard wood. I'd seen them through the kitchen window, Emmett's childlike demeanour as he raced his children to the cottage, sweeping up little Andrea into his arms as he overtook her; Rosalie looked on, smiling wearily at her young family as she slowly made her way over. The joyful giggles and playful grumblings rumbled through the wall as I hurriedly let them in. I put my index finger over my lips to tell them to keep quiet, then gestured to Carlisle lying sprawled out across the couch. Emmett and the aptly named Emmett Jr. both looked at each other, their eye's glinting wickedly. They simultaneously pulled pens from their pockets and made their way over to the sofa. Five minutes later, Carlisle had a uni-brow, a French style curvaceous moustache and goatee. It was the loud high five between the two Emmett's that woke Carlisle up.

Another knock at the door and there stood Edward, Bella and Renesmee. Edward and Renesmee both shared the same stern, thoughtful look, whilst Bella - after the many years of being part of the family - still looked timid as she hesitated in the doorway. I gestured for them all to come in. Shortly after Alice and Jasper arrived. I walked into the living room and Carlisle was on full alert, eyes wide making sure that he came across as the dutiful, loving husband. It made me smile to see my family all gathered together. Voices kept rising in volume to try and out talk someone else. It was over bearing and boisterous - and I loved it.

When the roast beef had finally been cooked to perfection, we all sat down in the dining room. Evidently no one had told Carlisle he had pen on his face as he sat opposite me blissfully unaware of what an idiot he looked. Regardless, he still remained fairly petulant and sour for the duration of the meal and then vanished off into the desolate garden to "get some alone time." Even Edward noticed his father's odd behaviour, frequently asking me if everything was ok. He may be 32 years old but he was still my baby, and I needed to protect him from what was actually going on.

We all sat in silence watching TV whilst Carlisle continued to sulk in the garden. After another hour of his self-imposed isolation I went outside, dragging him back in by the wrist and forcing him to sit down with us - this made his mood even worse. They all noticed this and so began making excuses to leave quickly, because there was nothing worse than when Carlisle was angry.

As soon as the door clicked to sound out that our last guest had gone he began his tirade.

"Esme, _Dearest_" he said sarcastically.

"I don't have to spend all night with you all, I want some time alone to sort things out in my mind, I can't do that when your constantly talking or smothering me." This little speech was unusual, normally his temper would've caused him to leave, but right now he just seemed .........defensive. When I didn't respond he chanced a look at me. He seemed incredibly guilty but carried on anyway.

"I'm sorry Esme, but I can't even be bothered to discuss all of this right now, I'm just too tired" and with that he climbed the stairs in several quick strides and disappeared from view. I heard the creak of the floorboards overhead as he moved around getting ready to sleep. I was stunned, I expected more of a reaction, a full on blazing row for being under pressure to act like a perfect role model for everyone. A slamming door even as he would normally have done. I didn't know what to make of it, it was all fairly erratic. Of course, I knew exactly what was going on, I knew about the emails but I didn't expect the lack of a temper. I just kept it all to myself.

Carlisle POV

I'd decided after dinner that I was going to sit in the garden and find some solace. I sat in the icy paradise of the garden, smoking a cigar. The stars faint light gave the otherwise gloomy garden a ghostly, eerie presence. There was no definition, just a solid wall of black, with a faint illumination of an object here and there, tricking my imagination, morphing it into something far more sinister. The crescent was tinted blue with splodges of cloud dulling its magnificence. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, rubbing the temples of my head as if it would make my decision easier. I couldn't carry on living a lie, and I needed to see if my true destiny and future lay with Jane.

My hands began to tremble under the pressure I was feeling. There was nothing fair about my actions though, but I kept trying to rationalise my behaviour as if it redeemed me in some way. If I met Jane I would essentially be having an affair - she'd made it clear that's what she wanted. But if I didn't go, I would always begrudge the decision and probably resent Esme for it. I heard footsteps creeping closer and knew it was her.

"Carlisle, aren't you cold? Just come inside and you can sulk later,"

I looked up at her smiling face as she reached for my hand. Could I really betray her in this way? Or break her? Those were my only two options, betray or break her and our family? It all was too much, I was on my feet shrugging off her hand as we walked inside. It all clicked into place though. I kept doing and saying hurtful things to get her to hate me. I wanted her to be repulsed by me so much that when it came to the end, she would have something to fall back on. I was oblivious the rest of the evening until I noticed we were alone. I didn't do my usual disappearing act - instead I tried to face up to how I felt.

"Esme, Dearest" I paused for a moment wondering what I could say, "I don't have to spend all night with you all, I want some time alone to sort things out in my mind, I can't do that when your constantly talking or smothering me.". It was the truth though, I needed a lot of alone time, that she just seemed incapable of giving me. I finally focussed on her. Esme's mouth opened and shut several times as if she wanted to say something. I could tell she was hurt, so I cut all potential conversational topics then and there.

"I'm sorry Esme, but I can't even be bothered to discuss all of this right now, I'm just too tired."

When she didn't say anything, I decided to go upstairs and prepare my suitcase. I packed some overnight clothes and hid it in the back of my cupboard. I looked in the mirror briefly to see that Emmett had drawn on my face again - I couldn't even be bothered to get upset about it. I washed the biro off and brushed my teeth quickly. I then undressed and slipped into bed glad that I would soon be unconscious and unable to think on the emails any further.

Three hours later Esme made her way up the stairs and I was still wide awake. I was literally staring into a void. When she eventually got into bed I fell into a restless sleep. I caught glimpses of my dream, two roads - one leading to Jane and the other to Esme, I was stood in between, craning my neck to see how each path looked. But due to the foliage and bends I couldn't see precisely what they looked like. I awoke to a piercing blue sky, and the sun's intense ray's and the faint rumblings of a revving engine.

Esme was leaving in her car to go somewhere, so I went downstairs to reply to Jane's email.

The screen flicked on, a gentle buzzing sound emanating from the monitor as it struggled with my demand. Jane had written to me again.

_Carlisle,_

_I'm assuming from your silence that you don't want to see me. That's fine, I get that completely, I just wanted to apologise for even putting you in that situation - I know your a family man, that's fine. Really and truly. I'll never stop thinking about you._  
_Love_

_Jane. _

I responded back quickly, wanting her not to fret any further.

_Jane,_

_I want to see you - and soon. I know exactly when, where and how but it may take a while, but you have my word. Next week on a Monday at the Red Lion, at about 8pm sound ok? Catch up on old times._

_Carlisle_

I clicked send, and so the plan was put into motion. I had to think up a convincing reason as to why I would be gone for awhile.

Needing my help with medics again? No, she wouldn't buy that. Visiting Edward and Bella? Esme could easily check up on me. Fishing trip with Wilfred - that was the perfect excuse.

Wilfred lived far away so that she couldn't show up randomly, not that I think she would anyway and she didn't have his phone number. That was my reason for begin away for awhile then. The temporary joy was quickly replaced again by guilt. I was so nervous that I started feeling sick, my stomach churning, I ran to the bathroom.

The week seemed to progress at a snails pace. With each passing day I became worse. My eyes had purple shadows beneath them due to the lack of sleep. I was sick on numerous occasions and I was even paler than usual. Quite frankly, I looked a dishevelled mess. Esme continually insisted that I go see a doctor, but I knew it was all due to stress. It was made much worse by her new found attentive behaviour. It was like she knew what I was going to do, she stopped going on her walks in the park and instead, stayed with me.

Esme fluctuated between asking my opinions and remaining silent. She cooked my favourite dinners, baked cookies and continually gave me attention. But I didn't want any of it. It just made me worse. She then suggested a trip to Bournemouth on the Monday, which was very out of character. I eyed her serene expression suspiciously, but I couldn't see any trace of her knowing what was going on.

"I, I can't, I er, I'm going fishing with Wilfred for a couple of days - remember?" I looked at her expectantly, as if she was going to turn around and scream at me. But instead, she stared dejectedly down at the ground, and mumbled something like "maybe the week after.".

My chest constricted at her open display of sadness. My arm automatically left my side, my hand hovered beneath her chin and then rested on her shoulder. I dipped my head to look her in the eyes.

"I promise the week after," I probably looked more like a preacher than a husband. A lump rose in my throat but my mind was set. I was going to see Jane.

After the emotional display between me and Esme, the days seemed to race on, until Monday had arrived. I went through the typical motions of packing up a fishing rod and all of the accompaniments. Everything but the live bait. Esme spotted that I was packing my smart shirts and that I was already wearing my favourite shirt. Her eyes narrowed and then relented, shrugging her shoulders as she helped me assemble my suitcase. I almost wanted to be caught now, to take the decision out of my hands. Let's face it, I wanted someone else to blame. For the first time in a long while Esme left to go for her walk through the park; on the way out making me promise that I wouldn't leave until she got back. I promised her, with a heavy heart and churning stomach.

Esme's POV

After seeing his suitcase and what he was packing I had to leave. The blue sky was endless, the clouds partly covered each other, fading the crisp colour into a dappled creamy haze on the horizon. They didn't look quite real, so I reached my aged hands out, grasping at an invisible cloud. My eyes squinted at the brightness of it all. The air was still bitterly cold, but the space was no longer laden with snow. In it's wake it left dank brown grass, neglected trees with dead leaves lying on this sodden land. It was warm enough for me to be able to write so I took out my pen and paper and began to rhyme.

_Between the Earth and the sky,_  
_If I may cast one artful eye,_  
_Curse softly as the world goes by,_  
_And pray that I uncover the lie,_  
_The powdered snow will never lift,_  
_As my mind is caught in the drift,_  
_A chaotic dream, or so it shall seem,_  
_As it melts beneath the steady beam,_

I couldn't write anymore, because after all that's not what I wanted to say. I wanted to pen the words "I know" all over the place, including his forehead.

Carlisle didn't know about my secret passion for poetry, because for once it was something for me not him. But an ordinary world still existed beyond my reach.

A young couple were arguing over on my bench, the woman was waving her arms around a lot and on occasion jabbed her manicured nail at him. Clearly punctuating her point with this gesture. Another, much older couple, walked past shaking their heads at the hostile display and carried on in their blissful bubble, not entirely alienated from the harsh reality. How lucky they were to be so sure of their relationship. I was envious and bitter. How perfect these strangers lives were, filled to the brim with passion. Anger - in a strange way was still showing someone that you cared. It's when you barely react that you realise what you have is on the brink of expiring.

I loved Carlisle, but the real question was did he still love me? Did he love me enough to begin trying again? I was scared because for once in my life I couldn't be sure of the answers. A slight breeze chilled me to my core and with this I began to retreat back to the cottage, positive that he wouldn't still be there when I returned. A gusty breeze caught underneath the lapels of my jacket, lifting them up and around my chin.

The leaves fell off of the trees beneath the unrelenting wind, pirouetting to the ground, the bulkier leaves flipped back and forth until eventually resting on the floor. The trees shook violently, shuddering and shaking. I kept looking over my shoulder, having heard what I thought to be footsteps but was in actual fact the sound of the wind whipping through the obstacles, either lifting them, or surrounding it with its brute force. I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, pushing my chin into my chest and focussed my eyes on my feet. It was now or never.

I made it back in record time as the familiar cottage came into view. Carlisle's car was still there - I was pleasantly surprised. I increased my pace, practically running to the front door. I flung it open like an eager child, it swung back slamming into the stone. He sat there looking nervous, with his suitcase clutched in his hand. His fingers were wrapped around it so tightly that his knuckles were white like bone.

"So when are you leaving?" I looked at him hopefully. If I'm honest, I thought he would have told me about Jane by now, cracking under the pressure.

"I was," he seemed lost for a moment, then he sounded resilient, "I am going now."

He stood up from the sofa abruptly and began pushing his way past me.

"Why the rush?" I whispered. He stopped, the merest hint of pain touched his features.

"One more hour and then I really have to leave,", he dropped the case on the floor and closed the door up behind him. We sat on the chair in comparative silence, both secretly acknowledging what was actually taking place here. The minutes sped by as he stretched out and flicked the TV on. I continued to look at him. Mourning the loss of my once dignified and loving husband.

The jingling keys indicated it was time for him to leave as he headed for the door I stared morosely after him.

"Carlisle?" I spoke gently. He stopped and turned his head.

"Yeah?"

"I still love you," he looked taken aback, he then nodded once in my direction and left.

A lump rose in my throat as I realised this was it. This was the end of me and him. A sudden coldness took over me so I lit the wood burning fire for some warmth. I gazed helplessly into the flickering flames watching them lick up higher and higher. The heat given off warped the air around it, looking like a stream of water was hovering in mid-air. There I sat, emotionless, expressionless and hollow. Then I decided I couldn't hide out any longer, I was going to confront him.

Carlisle POV

I was all prepared to leave but then she told me she loved me and what did I do? I nodded. I couldn't even speak, it was like she knew how to twist some guilt into me. I left quickly, chucking my bag into my car and sped off down the winding road. A million thoughts raced through my mind, but beneath each thought there was an image. Esme's sparkling eyes were dead as I had glanced at her. Her stiff and tensed body sagged - and not with relief. I knew for certain in that moment that she knew.

Esme knew I was about to cheat and yet she let me leave. The declaration of love was her last attempt to reaching me and I had dismissed her. What right did I have for turning her away so cruelly? I'd laid all the blame at her feet, not wanting to acknowledge my own short comings. I was the villain of this piece..................but I had to wonder if I still had a chance.

I was almost at the Red Lion now. I looked all around and then braked. The scene before me was just like my dream. The road to the left led to the pub - to Jane. The road to my right looped back around and headed in the direction of the cottage - back to Esme. The engine idled awaiting my decision, one that would ultimately change my life. This was my final choice and I knew that I was right in my choice.

Esme POV

I couldn't keep it from him any longer. I grabbed my own keys and sprinted to the car, ready to confront my would - be - cheating husband. I knew Jane wouldn't be there to meet him though, that was my job.

I'd arranged this entire facade to test him. I wanted to see if he fell for the smoke screen and he most certainly did. For awhile I had no idea how to see if he still loved me. But I happened to hear the song Babooshka. It was ridiculous to take a song and actually do it, but I felt I had no other choice. I needed to know. But I expected him to pass my test, instead he failed making our real lives a parallel to a fictional song. I was so betrayed and hurt. I knew he had been slipping away from me for awhile and I from him, but I never thought he would cheat, as I would never have an affair.

I wished I had never conjured Jane back up, I remembered him telling me about her before, so I thought it the perfect disguise, but instead, he provided me with an answer that I never really wanted. I'd needed confirmation that he would be mine but instead I was left with a sour taste in my mouth. I'd seen him suffer gradually under the emotional strain and a few times I'd wavered, almost telling him what I'd done. But now he was probably sat in that pub, suitcase in hand with a beer in the other waiting for Jane.

He was probably smiling that lop-sided grin he used to save for me. I drove into the car park, looking all around me for his car. But I couldn't see it. I got out and went inside anyway, just in case he was here. I glanced at my watch it was just turning 7 o'clock now so he couldn't have left already. I pushed my way inside of the Red Lion searching for Carlisle……….. But he wasn't there. I sat down making myself comfortable, waiting for him to arrive.

Carlisle POV

I spun my car to the right and sped off down the quiet road. Thirty two years of marriage was worth fighting for; it may be difficult, but unlike before I was willing to work on it.

I passed through the village, stopping temporarily outside of the flower shop. Five minutes later I was in possession of an extravagant bouquet of red and white roses, another five minutes and I had picked up some food and candles. We mustn't forget the candles. When I got back to the cottage, Esme's car was gone. I didn't spend long thinking about it as I set about my mission, I was going to prove my love to her.

The fire in the living room had warmed nicely, creating a bearable heat inside. The chicken had already been roasted, so I left it in the oven to keep warm and began peeling the vegetables. I looked up at the clock - it was almost 8. Jane would probably be at the pub by now, but I refused to dwell on it any further. Well, that was only partially true. I began thinking about when I had been dating Jane. To be honest, she was a money grabber, she had a cruel streak and she had never loved me back then.

So why did I drive away from Esme willing to cheat? I can only plead temporary insanity. But it wasn't that, I knew it was the fact that everything had become a rigmarole. There was nothing I despised more than routines. Regardless, I was ashamed of what I had even contemplated doing, I hung my head with shame despising my choices the last couple of months. I flicked on the radio, as Chopin's prelude in E minor flowed like a steady stream of sorrow through the room. The music was intoxicating and was quickly changed. The presenters low, whispered voice introduced the next one as "Meditations from Thais" by Massenet - evidently a love song.

I put the vegetables into a pan and the potatoes were put in the oven. I ran out through the living room and past the front door to the dining room and set up the table with candles and the bouquet of roses acting as the centrepiece, laying a single red rose where Esme would sit. I ran back around to my cooking area, I began shuffling around the kitchen in time with the gentle rise and fall of this classical masterpiece - waving my wooden spoon around as if I were the conductor.

I felt a cold chill on my neck, I listened more intently for any sound but found none. So I continued on with the work at hand. Two arms wrapped around my waist as I leaned over the pot of vegetables and a face appeared next to my own.

Esme was smiling, I could see from the corner of my eye. I clicked off the radio with my right hand and turned slowly, Esme releasing me from her arms.

I smiled my best smile at her and she beamed. I was curious though........

"Esme, where have you been for the past hour?" She smiled angelically at me.

"And I would like to know why you're not _fishing?_" the emphasis on the word fishing had me convinced once and for all that she knew. I owed her an explanation anyway.

"Esme, I have to be honest with you, things haven't been great.....or even good between us for a long while and well you see, she, I mean I. I mean Jane, she sent a letter to me awhile a go and we have been emailing since then. I just" I began rubbing my neck nervously whilst she continued to simply look at me. "She kept being suggestive in her emails, however, I was the one who suggested we should actually meet, it was tonight in fact - but I get the feeling you knew all this anyway."

"Yes I did know," at that I was ready to throw myself at her feet and beg her forgiveness. I couldn't understand what she said next though.

"Sorry. I don't get what you mean?" She looked worried now and began looking everywhere but me.

"I wrote the letter, I sent the emails from a different account, I set you up, I am Jane," the sentence rushed out, the room was cloaked in silence. I was hurt, I can't deny that, but then again real or fake Jane I still had the potential to cheat.

"You are Jane, Esme, I'm smorree", the sorry became muffled as both her hands clamped over my mouth.

"We both have things to be sorry for, but at the end of the day you made a choice. A choice that I'm especially happy with - of course - and granted you cut it right down to the last possible minute. But now you want this to work, this is all far from over, we need to work at this marriage now Carlisle."

She tried to look stern as she removed her hands from my lips. "But for tonight let's just keep things light." I nodded in quick agreement.

I then leaned forward and kissed her. Her rouged lips remained puckered and eyes closed. Until I pulled away and leaned my forehead against hers. Esme's eyes began to open as I looked intently at her. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as her eyes shone with the built up tears, my thumb wiped it away not bearing to see her cry.

"I love you Esme, and I know now that it's with the whole of my heart."


End file.
